


Sober

by its_elvish_for_two



Category: The Riyria Revelations - Michael J. Sullivan
Genre: Alcohol, Attempt at Humor, Bromance, Escape, Friendship, Gen, Injury, Mild Language, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-06 01:39:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18841006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_elvish_for_two/pseuds/its_elvish_for_two
Summary: Royce doesn't have time to be patient with Hadrian's drinking, especially when they need to make a quick escape after Royce kills a nobleman. But he comes to appreciate the alcohol in the end.





	Sober

**Author's Note:**

> Royce getting Riyria into trouble again. Mild language in parts. Enjoy!

"Are you sober?"

"I'm moderately functional."

"I'll take that as a no, but it'll have to do. Come on."

Royce grabbed Hadrian by the arm, picking his swords up on the way out of the tavern. He dragged his partner to the trough where their horses were tied and dunked Hadrian's head into the water. He kept it there for a few seconds and then dragged him out again when Hadrian started to fight him.

"Come on, Hadrian, we don't have time for this," grumbled Royce, repeating the process.

"Ok, you can stop, I'm fine," insisted Hadrian, pushing back his sopping hair. "What's the rush?"

"There are a dozen city guards closing in on this tavern as we speak, so we need to get on the horses and go. Now."

Royce pushed his partner towards the horse and handed him his swords.

"We could take twelve, and usually you're not one to run from the opportunity of a fight, especially against city patrol."

Royce had to agree with this evaluation of his normal behaviour, but this wasn't a normal situation.

"Would you believe me if I said I had found my moral compass?" he asked as he untied both horses and jumped into his saddle.

"As much as you would believe me if I said I was sober. You're remarkably well behaved tonight. What did you do?"

"Nothing,' lied Royce. Hadrian gave him a glare as they hurried down the cobbled streets towards the outskirts of the city. "Alright, nothing you need to know right now."

"Royce, it's the reason you interrupted my drinking; you'd better tell me, or by Mar, I will run you through right now.'

"You're too drunk to even hold your sword straight," argued Royce, but Hadrian began to reach for his longest blade. "Alright, fine. I had a disagreement with some guy and he came off worse than me."

"Seriously, Royce? You couldn't keep a low profile for one night?" asked Hadrian in disbelief.

Royce scowled.

"You weren't exactly following the best routine for the night before a job, were you? At the rate you were going, you would have been passed out by midnight, and not awake til noon."

"Fair point. But how did the city guards find you so fast? Surely a murdered commoner in a back alley isn't their biggest priority right now, not with all the security issues up at the castle."

They came in sight of the city gates, thanks to Royce's excellent sense of direction, and Royce glanced behind him at the towering shadow of the fort, lit from below by dozens of torches and braziers in the court yard.

"It wasn't exactly in a back alley."

"For Maribor's sake, Royce," exclaimed Hadrian. "At least tell me it wasn't a member of the court or anything as stupid as that."

"It wasn't a member of court or anything as stupid as that," repeated Royce, but he didn't bother to conceal the fact he was lying.

"Are you trying to get us killed, Royce? Please, I genuinely don't know the answer."

"Not at the moment, no," said Royce, spotting archers on the wall above the gate. Clearly word had spread fast, but quietly. There had been no warning bell. "Watch out for the archers. We have to move fast."

Galloping across the main street as fast as he could, Royce could hear Hadrian behind him, but suddenly there was a shout. Royce had been so distracted by the archers, and making sure Hadrian wasn't going to fall off his horse, that he didn't notice the hidden marksmen until it was too late. He was almost through the gate when he felt something sharp pierce his back from behind, and he saw the tip of a crossbow bolt sticking out of his right shoulder.

His right arm hanging loose in incredible pain, Royce charged on, glad at least to hear Hadrian's horse behind him, even though he had no idea if Hadrian was still in the saddle. He tried to look back, but any twisting made Royce clench his teeth so he carried on pushing his horse until they were out of sight of the city. Only then did he slow to a walk and turn his horse around to see if he still had his partner.

As he had expected, Hadrian was still in the saddle, still 'moderately functional' and still looking annoyed. It was only when Royce swayed in the saddle and almost fell off that his expression changed to concern.

"What happened? Are you injured?" he asked, dismounting and helping Royce down. 

"What do you mean 'am I injured'?" said Royce, impatiently. Waves of sickness were passing though him, and he was having trouble walking. Hadrian held him up. "Wasn't it obvious from the crossbow bolt sticking into my back?"

"I can't see it from the back," Hadrian told him as they led the horses off the road into a thicket of trees so they were hidden. "I only noticed it when you turned around. Wait, is that the point? It went all the way through?"

"With worrying ease," muttered Royce. Hadrian grabbed the pitch-covered sheet from his pack and laid Royce on it to keep him off the wet grass. Royce lay on his left side, his lungs heaving.

"Sober yet?" he managed to ask as Hadrian began to examine the injury.

"Trust me, I'm way to sober for this. Actually, you're way to sober for this. Here." Hadrian handed Royce a foul-smelling bottle of clear liquid.

"Is this what you've been drinking all evening?" asked Royce in disgust.

"It's great for pain, emotional and physical, now get it down you," ordered Hadrian, grabbing rags and his water skin to begin cleaning the wound. 

Royce didn't normally drink any alcohol except Montemorcey but desperate times called for desperate measures. He downed half of the bottle in one and felt his head spin immediately, taking away some of his discomfort.

"I hope you really have sobered up," he slurred. "Because this stuff is strong! I don't want you doing surgery if you're drunk."

"Trust me, Royce," smiled Hadrian, grimly. "This isn't going to be pleasant. We're both going to want to be a little drunk."

Royce looked back at the bottle.

"You're probably right," he nodded, and swallowed the rest of the spirit, feeling it burn down his throat and temporarily distract him from the pain in his arm. It came back in full force as Hadrian helped him take off his cloak, jacket and tunic so they could see the damage.

"On three," said Hadrian, gripping the tip of the bolt and getting ready to remove it. Royce braced himself for the countdown but it didn't come.

"Three," barked Hadrian with no warning, and Royce blacked out.

*

Royce woke up in the dark, staring up at the stars which appeared through gaps in the cloud. He was lying on his back now, and his bare torso was wrapped in bandages and blankets to keep the chill off. He felt like crap, but he forced himself to sit up when he heard the crackling of burning twigs, and noticed his feet were nice and toasty.

Hadrian was sitting on a rock by a small campfire opposite Royce, his shoulders slumped and his eyes glassy. He was still a young man, but Royce had never seen him looking so old. The early lines on his forehead were highlighted by the flames, and his usual solid frame seemed deflated. If Royce didn't know better, he would have thought Hadrian was in a drunken stupor, but there was no more alcohol left.

When he saw Royce sitting up, Hadrian immediately put back on his usual annoying smile and sat up straight.

"How you doing, buddy?" he asked, walking over and double-checking Royce's bandages. 

"Brilliant, I love being shot," grumbled Royce, trying to wiggle his fingers and being glad to find at least a little movement. "How about you?"

"It's fine, I wasn't injured," said Hadrian. "Hungry?"

"I know you weren't hit, but you don't look great," Royce told him, accepting the pork that Hadrian passed him. "Is it about that kid?"

"I'm fine, Royce," said Hadrian, a little too forcefully to be believable. "Just leave it."

"It wasn't your fault, if that's what's getting to you. The kid was already dead."

"I said I don't- wait, what?" Hadrian stopped when he heard Royce finish. "What do you mean, she was already dead?"

"She was the one that tried to poison the Princess," Royce explained, repeating what he had heard from the man he had killed back in the city. "The guards found out and were coming to arrest her so she could be tortured and then executed. A quick death was a luxury she wasn't going to get otherwise."

"It was still my blade."

Royce shook his head.

"It was a guard again. The decent one we were talking to the other night. He knew what they were going to do and he killed her. You thought you'd done it because you felt your sword hit someone, and turned and saw the kid, but you hit a dog. You should have known you would have been aware of a person behind you."

Hadrian thought about it for a long while, and Royce had finished his dinner by the time his partner spoke again. 

"I can't believe I killed the dog."

Royce rolled his eyes.

"You didn't even kill the dog. You hit the dog, and it got angry and came at me. I killed the dog."

"How could you kill the dog?"

"It was easy. I got my dagger and I slit its throat. So, are you feeling less guilty now?"

"I guess. Thanks."

"Good, because now you can feel guilty about something else. Who the hell says "on three" and then just skips one and two? Bastard."

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it. Comments welcome.


End file.
